St Peter's Basilica
by Availre
Summary: Erik goes to church, and into a confessional. One shot.


**Here is the one shot I promised you all on Erik's visit to church. Enjoy! And Erika Daae, happy birthday! **

**This'll probably be mostly consisted of dialogue, because that's what a confession is, isn't it? I've never been to a confessional, since I'm not catholic, but I hope I've grasped the general idea. Hopefully whoever reads this won't have to read my other stories; I wouldn't wish that upon them **_**just**_** to read this.**

Erik looked with a mixture of anxiety and awe at the grand cathedral that towered before him. The architecture was phenomenal, with the nave and narthex joining splendidly with marble fixtures. "St. Peter's Basilica," he muttered to himself, trotting his stallion towards the basilica.

Dismounting, Erik handed his reins to a nearby stable boy. "Give him food, water, and loosen his girth; I'll be a few hours." The hand gave him an odd look, but after Erik piled a few lira's into his hand, the look vanished and was replaced by a greedy smile. Erik supposed that the boy's family was probably living in destitution and had sent him to live and work at the church to help make ends meet. He shook the thought from his head, sighing as he went through the massive cathedral doors.

"Excuse me, signora," Erik said in Italian to a nun, dressed in a habit, "but where are the confessionals?" The nun peered shrewdly at him for a moment before replying.

"The confessionals are just down that hall there." She gestured to a corridor on the right. "May God be with you."

Erik wasn't sure how to reply to that, so he just nodded politely and headed down the indicated hallway. He could hear voices murmuring softly in curtained boxes.

Picking out an empty one quickly, he stepped inside and sat on the small wooden bench. There was a silence stretching for a long time before Erik could hear someone shifting on the other side.

"Is someone there?"

"Yes," an older voice said, a hint of amusement in it. "Haven't you ever been to a confessional before?"

"No," Erik admitted.

"Ah, I see. Well, usually you, the civilian, would start out by saying, '"Bless me, father, for I have sinned.'"

Erik shifted skeptically in his seat. "Bless me, father, for I have sinned."

"Now, ordinarily, you would then say how long it has been since your last confession, but you and I both know that you have never been, so we will skip that step."

Erik nodded. "Very well. Then what?"

"Then you would begin to tell me of your sins. First your mortal sins, and the number of times you have committed them, then you may proceed to your venial sins."

"Ah. Will this remain anonymous?"

"Yes. I will not speak of it to anyone unto my dying day. You may begin when you feel ready."

"Not even the police?"

"No, not even the police. Church is a safe place, child."

"I have committed thievery a total of...," Erik paused for a moment. "At least fifty times in my life, most of which was necessary for survival."

"Mhm," the priest said quietly. "It is not my place, but I must admit, you have me curious."

"I'm used to curiosity, father, for I have long been the subject of it."

"Again, you have my curiosity roused."

"I am ugly, hideously deformed in such a way that only a select few have been able to love me."

"You have always been the object of the Holy Father's love, even when it did not seem like it." Erik laughed bitterly.

"That has always been what you holy men say, and yet my life has been a living hell." There was a long pause from the priest.

"Life itself is not hell, only the things that happen during its course."

"I suppose you're right… Shall I continue listing my sins?"

"You're not done?"

"No."

"Then by all means, continue."

"…Eighteen counts of murder are on my hands, as well as one lifetime's worth of hating God and cursing his name. Six counts of adultery within my heart… Father?"

"Yes?"

"Does it count as murder if you saved a person weeks' of agony and a painful death?"

"I'm afraid so," the monk said, the tone in his voice considerably subdued.

"Then I have committed nineteen murders to the day…," Erik murmured. "And self defense? That counts as well?"

The priest sighed. "Yes, it certainly does."

"Even though I never meant to do it?"

"Yes, child, it does."

"Then I have twenty murders to my name… I'm not liking where this is going, father," Erik admitted.

"Confessionals are not made to be places of comfort, my dear boy. They are a place to earn forgiveness."

"Again, father, you are right… Is there any way to atone for my wrongdoings?"

"You regret them, then?" he questioned, shifting in his seat again.

"Yes, father. Not for my own sake, but for my love's."

"You have found a woman, then, who is able to look past these things you have done?"

"She is the one who encouraged me to come here," Erik admitted. "Her faith is adamant."

"Under ordinary circumstances, marrying one outside the faith would be considered a sin in of itself, but I believe that there is exception here."

"She is a good woman, father."

"She certainly sounds like one. I wouldn't let her go, if I were you."

"I wasn't planning on it."

**Yay! Erik visited church! I tried to make it vague enough so that it could be a stand-alone, but it also works within my own story, so I'm happy.**

**And again, Erika Daae, happy birthday! I apologize for taking this long to upload, but I wanted to get it in for you. :D**


End file.
